Unnaturals #2

by Devon Hughes

  But between their bodies, a dozen serpentine bodies were coiled up. Sometime in the night, the dog pile had become a snake pit. Apparently in the cold desert night, Castor wasn’t the only one who wanted something warm to cuddle up against.

  Why’d it have to be snakes? Castor thought.

  He knew he should leap up. He should warn his friends. He could fly away in seconds. He could catch the snakes unaware.

  But it didn’t much matter what his brain was saying; his body was rooted to the spot. Though he was in one of the driest places possible—a desert—Castor felt like he was underwater. Though the rising sun was already making the ground hot, he felt his blood run cold. And though these were ordinary snakes and he was a mutant who’d been trained as an elite fighter, the scales and tails all blurred together, and Castor only saw one thing when he looked at them: Deja.

  Castor shuddered as he heard the ssssss that still haunted his dreams.

  The desert fell away, and he was transported back to the Dome, to his match against Deja.

  “S-s-stupid,” Castor heard Deja scold, as he felt her fangs sink into his tender nose.

  “Trust is for s-s-suckers, s-s-shepherd dog,” she’d told him as she coiled around his stomach and started to squeeze.

  “S-s-sorry.” He saw her unhinged smile just before she bit his ankle.

  “Stay still,” he heard the human, Pete, say later, as he was stitching Castor up.

  Sssss

  Sssss

  Ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

  “Castor? Castor! Castor, RUN!”

  Vaguely, Castor thought he heard his name. But the rattling was louder now, all around him. It was all he could focus on.

  “What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he moving? Brother, help! More are coming!”

  “I think he’s in shock. At NuFormz, there was a butterfly-snake. On the opposing team. He fought her once and—”

  “The Cunning. They broadcasted the match on buildings all over Lion’s Head. We watched from the alley.”

  “She escaped—I saw her. She was looking for a way home, a way to the desert. Maybe this is her kin.”

  “I can’t hold them off much longer. Somebody do something! CASTOR!”

  43

  CASTOR WAS IN PAIN—THAT’S WHAT REGISTERED FIRST. HIS tail. No, his face. No, his belly. He was fairly uncomfortable all over.

  “What’s happening?” he howled, though in the next instant, the world snapped back into focus, and the scene became clear.

  Castor was traveling at breakneck speed over yellow dunes. His soft belly was being scratched by sand, cacti, tumbleweeds, and anything else that got in his way. His head bobbed wildly, his nose smashing into the ground with each twist and turn. And his tail—what was pulling it so hard?

  Castor twisted his shoulders around, and craned his neck to see that Kozmo, that sneaky fox-bat, was gripping the tip of his tail in her mouth. As she flapped her sinister gray wings overhead, she was dragging him along behind her.

  Kozmo was chanting something, but at first Castor couldn’t understand her because his fluffy tail was muffling her words. She shifted the tail in her mouth, catching the sensitive middle part of it with one of her pointy little teeth.

  “Ow!” Castor yipped.

  “Sorry,” she said automatically.

  But now that Kozmo could talk clearly, the next thing she said was a lot less polite.

  “Come on, serpent friends!” she barked loudly. “He’s the one you want.”

  Serpents?

  Suddenly Castor remembered the situation he was in. The desert. The nest of rattlesnakes. Feeling paralyzed at the thought of fighting them. Then he’d blacked out.

  Oh, no. Were Jazlyn and Runt okay? Did they need him?

  He twisted back around. He couldn’t see his pack, but he did see a whole line of snakes making soft S’s in the sand, zigzagging after them.

  There were even more than before!

  “The eagle-dog is an enemy of your family!” Kozmo bellowed. “This guy hurt Deja!”

  What?!

  “I did not!” Castor growled. “If anything, she hurt me!”

  The snake family didn’t seem to care, though. They were wriggling toward him with fangs bared and rattling tails held high. The percussive sound wormed its way into his ears. Castor felt dizzy.

  To make matters worse, Kozmo seemed to be slowing down.

  “Come and get him!”

  He’d known from the beginning he couldn’t trust her, but he’d never imagined she could be this heartless. She’d seemed to really care for Runt. Apparently, that had all been an act. Or maybe this was all one big plan to take his place. Did she think she could let the snakes kill him and then run back to his brother and best friend and try to buddy up? Did she think they wouldn’t see right through her scheming? Did she think they wouldn’t mourn him?

  Well, she’d underestimated Castor, at any rate. He’d been a scrappy warrior in territory brawls in the alleys of Lion’s Head. He’d taken on an entire enemy pack once to protect Runt. He’d gone head-to-head with the deadly, invincible Laringo, and he’d helped his team escape their cruel human captors. Castor might be an underdog once again, but he was not going down without a fight.

  In his head, Castor started to strategize. What would his old mentor, Pookie, say about taking on twenty snakes on their home front? Castor was a fast runner and a smart fighter. He had the advantage of sharp talons and powerful wings.

  But that was only if he could use them. He couldn’t do anything with Kozmo holding him by his tail.

  “Let me go!” Castor growled, thrashing in her grip. “What, leading the snakes to me isn’t enough? I knew you were sneaky, but I didn’t think you were such a coward. At least give me a chance to fight them on my own!”

  But instead of releasing him, Kozmo started to pull on his tail again. Now he felt her back paws wrap around his tail, gripping it like a rope. She was dragging him again, this time into something . . . wet? Though he couldn’t see behind him, Castor felt something sticky on his hind legs. It only lasted a moment, though. Soon he wasn’t touching the sand at all as, grunting, Kozmo began to lift him up.

  The snakes were nearly upon them now. She was dangling him in front of their eyes like a cat dangles a mouse—playing with it, taunting it. She might as well hand him over on a silver platter!

  Castor’s eyes widened. His heart pounded. His whole body started to shake. He imagined all those fangs sinking into him at once, all those scales constricting around him and cutting off his breath. It was a bad way to go. . . .

  As the snakes surged forward, Castor let out one last bark of defiance, and Kozmo yanked him upward suddenly.

  Below them, the snakes had not only stopped slithering . . . They’d started to sink.

  The quicksand!

  Bit by bit, the earth opened to swallow the serpents up. And even as Kozmo struggled to hold Castor’s weight, she didn’t dare lower him down until the last snake was out of sight. When, with a belch, the sand closed up once again without so much as a ripple, she finally set him gently on the firm desert floor a safe distance away.

  By the time Castor’s heart rate had slowed enough that he could speak, Jazlyn had arrived with Flicker riding on her back and Runt panting by her side.

  “I can’t believe it worked!” Runt cheered, licking Castor’s face excitedly.

  Jazlyn bowled into him, wrapping her strong panther paws around him in an embrace that knocked Flicker off her back and Castor to the ground. After a second, she stood up, embarrassed, and dusted herself off. Though Jazlyn was smiling, her red eyes were still clouded with worry.

  “We didn’t know what to do,” she explained. “I was running circles around the snakes trying to confuse them, and Kozmo was swooping in with airborne attacks while Runt and Flicker tried to guard you, but it was still a losing battle. We knew it was only a matter of time before we lost the energy to hold them off, and with the snakes’ venom, even
one strike would be enough to kill. Kozmo came up with a brilliant plan to lure them away.”

  “To use me as bait.”

  Jazlyn’s nose twitched in annoyance. “To divert the mass so we could split up and have a better chance at surviving. Luckily, thanks to Kozmo’s quick thinking, we don’t have to worry about them coming back at all now.”

  Castor took a long look at the bat-fox. She had pulled his tail, told lies about him to the snakes, and assumed he was dumb enough that he wouldn’t figure out the scheme and blow her cover.

  She’d also saved his life and, more importantly, those of the animals he cared about most.

  He hung his head in shame. “Thank you,” he said with a whimper, his tail hanging low. “I . . . I misjudged you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  Kozmo hugged her wings around herself shyly, and her own tail swished. “You just did,” she answered.

  44

  THE DESERT NIGHT WAS COLD AND CLEAR, AND CASTOR lay on his back, looking up into the sky. He felt something shift next to him, and he flinched. His ears quivered, straining to hear more, to assess whether he or his pack was at risk.

  But it was just Kozmo.

  “Can’t sleep?” the fox-bat whispered to him.

  “I want to make sure nothing sneaks up on us tonight. It’s so dark.”

  “I was actually thinking how light it is,” Kozmo said. “Those stars are like a zillion fireflies. I’ve never seen anything like it. And there’s so much space out here!”

  “Yeah, space enough for predators to come at us from any angle,” Castor muttered, anxious.

  “Don’t worry,” Kozmo assured him. “No snakes out there this time.”

  “How can you tell?”

  She let out a shrill screech, and Castor jerked onto his feet.

  “Shhh!” he growled. “You’re going to attract them!”

  “Sorry,” she squeaked. “I was just double-checking for anything giving off heat—my voice bounces back to tell me the distance. There’s nothing out there for miles.”

  Castor settled back down into the pile. “That’s pretty neat that you can do that, I guess.” Maybe Kozmo wasn’t so bad after all. “They all seem to like you better than me these days,” Castor said after a beat. He could feel the warmth of the other bodies around him, but Castor still felt isolated. “When I wasn’t paying attention, you snuck your way right into my family.”

  He didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation. Kozmo sounded genuinely surprised.

  “Really?” she said. “I feel like you and Jazlyn are so close, and Runt and Flicker are best friends. Sometimes I feel like there’s no room for me.”

  She said it in a small voice, like she was nervous he’d tell her she was right, and Castor felt guilty for the way he’d treated her.

  “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  “Of everything,” Castor barked bitterly. “I’m supposed to be a leader—this fearsome mutant dog, this winner. But really I’m the biggest scaredy-cat there is. You saw me today—so terrified I couldn’t move. I couldn’t protect my family. Runt . . .”

  “Runt is fine. We’re all fine. And I think it’s okay to be scared. I’ve been scared my whole life, and it’s what kept me alive. I think sometimes that being afraid, and just dealing with it, is what being brave is.”

  That sounded like something Pookie, his mentor, had told Castor before one of his first matches. Looking up at the twinkling stars, Castor thought of how Pookie’s web had shimmered under the stadium lights, how he’d spelled out CASTOR THE BRAVE to give Castor courage each time he looked up. It felt like Pookie was with him now.

  “There doesn’t always have to be a leader, you know,” Kozmo continued. “Or a winner. I feel like we just have to do what we can for each other, when we can.” She paused, thoughtful. “It’s better than being alone, which is what I was before.”

  She was shivering a bit next to him, and Castor draped one of his long wings over the fox-bat.

  “None of us have to be alone anymore,” he said, finally believing it himself. “We’re all part of the same pack now.”

  45

  MARCUS AND LEESA CROUCHED BETWEEN SCRUBBY WEEDS and strewn trash on Reformers Island, where the NuFormz facility was located. They were about a half mile from the entrance to NuFormz, and together, they anxiously watched the road that wound down the ridge to the city center. They were waiting, but neither of them was exactly sure what for yet. A sign? An arrest? A rescue?

  Suffice to say, the break-in didn’t quite go as planned. Stealing Pete’s aircar had been a piece of cake, and despite his guilt, Marcus had even let Leesa control it on the way down the steep slope. They’d made it onto the island a-okay!

  Sadly, that was where their good luck had ended.

  Since Pete had been fired and was now being prosecuted by NuFormz, they’d already deactivated all his access, including the code to slide the car into port, which was also their building access. At the last minute, Leesa had convinced Marcus to abandon the car and jump, so now they were stuck on an island under government lockdown, without a way into the building, without a mask to protect themselves against the elements, and without a way off the island other than the wheels of his skateboard, which he’d grabbed at the last minute.

  Marcus could see other aircars gliding down the cable lines, and above them hele-pros chopped at smog, but here at ground level, the road leading to the island was empty. They were in a bad spot, that was for sure. The temperature outside was already climbing to dangerous levels.

  They had met at ten, when the Skypark opened (which was where he’d told his mom he was going), and they had really gone to the park first, all so he could show off a few skate tricks to Leesa. She’d actually clapped, which seemed like the greatest thing ever, but now that he saw Leesa’s tan skin starting to burn and his fairer complexion already blistering in places, he wished they’d made a different call.

  Or scrapped this whole crazy plan in the first place.

  This is why we have rules about daylight exposure, he could almost hear his mom chiding. She was going to lose it when she saw him. If he made it home . . .

  He was probably being dramatic, but he could tell Leesa was nervous, too. Her fingers worried at a piece of grass, slowly shredding it while she studied the road.

  “There!” she said suddenly, pointing to a white box passing the roadblock and coming across the bridge. “There’s our savior!” She was actually laughing now, shaking off the nerves. She had a nice, easy laugh. And cute dimples.

  When it finally rumbled past, Marcus grabbed Leesa’s hand and together they sprang out of the weeds and slipped behind the truck, crossing their fingers that the driver wasn’t paying attention to his side mirrors. It was going slowly enough that Marcus was able to boost Leesa onto the back bumper. It got away from him after that, though, and Marcus had to kick fast on his skateboard to catch up. He made it in the end, though, and by the time he joined Leesa on the metal ledge, she’d already pried open the rusty metal latch.

  The inside of the truck was louder than the Dome during a Mega Mash-up, and that was really saying something. The monkey shrieked. The kangaroo kicked at the sides of its cage. The cats hissed and meowed and moaned. Only the vulture watched in silence.

  “Why would they be bringing new nonmutants in if the Unnaturals games are done?” Marcus shouted over the racket. Seeing the new animals in cages made him sick to his stomach. They were all so panicked and afraid. Marcus made a split-second decision and unclipped a carabiner from his belt loop.

  “What is that?”

  “A skate tool for tightening wheels or ball bearings. I think it’ll work as a key.”

  He started to work the small wrench into the lock on one of the cages. Leesa pursed her lips in doubt, but the lock on the cage had popped open, and a kangaroo surged out feet first.

  “Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best
idea,” Marcus admitted five minutes later, as they were dodging the animal’s kicks.

  “Ya think?” Leesa said, ducking behind the capuchin monkey’s cage. It screeched in agreement.

  The driver must’ve heard the commotion in the back, because he slammed on the brakes, and the cages crashed against the door. Many of them burst open, and the animals inside rushed out, frantic. Now the kids were trying to avoid a beak in the eye or a horn to the face.

  It was only for a moment, though. They heard someone fumbling with the latch. The door opened, and it was Horace, the red-faced training manager that Marcus had seen mistreat the animals.

  “You!” he bellowed, recognizing them right away.

  Marcus clutched the tool in his fist defensively, but luckily, he didn’t have to use it. Balancing on its muscular tail, the kangaroo launched its legs forward, slamming its feet into Horace’s broad stomach.

  Following the fleeing animals, Leesa and Marcus stumbled around overturned cages and strewn feathers and jumped out of the truck. It was parked inside the garage, and they sprinted to the door to NuFormz, dreading the new horrors they might find inside.

  46

  MARCUS KNEW HIS WAY AROUND THE BRIGHTLY LIT HALLWAYS of the island prison—Pete had snuck him in quite a few times to see his favorite Unnaturals, the Fearless and the Underdog, when they’d been hurt. As they neared the corner before Bruce’s private office lab, Marcus motioned for Leesa to slow down. Sure enough, he could hear Bruce’s grim voice, having a heated conversation with another guy.

  “I hear you paid off Horace to bring in new animals for your little experiments. That’s not going to go over well, I bet. She told you no more newbies. What happens if some nosy journalist has got eyes on the place?”

  “That’s Vince!” Leesa whispered. “I recognize the voice.”

  “We just need a few more test mutations to get the serum right. Please.”

  Bruce now, sounding desperate.

  “End of the week. That’s all you have.”

  “I’m in charge here,” Bruce said in whiny irritation—this was the tone he usually used with Marcus at home. “I say when the trials are over.”